Page 27 of Bewitched By a Vampire

Her eyes widened. “It’s not Bastian. It’s—”

She cast a fearful glance over her shoulder.

“Grave,” he murmured.

That was the reason she was afraid. Because it was his brother Grave at the door and she clearly knew of his reputation.

He tried to wrap his head around the fact that Grave had left Hell, something he rarely did. It didn’t seem possible. He couldn’t remember the last time Grave had set foot in the mortal world.

“Are you sure it’s my brother? My cousin Antoine looks much like him.” Night found it hard to believe it was Grave at the door.

Grave who hated visiting Bastian.

“He specifically asked to see his brother. Unless you have a cousin staying here, it is your brother.” The bite to her tone was unnecessary, but Night let it slide, because he knew her short temper stemmed from fear.

“He won’t harm you, Lilian,” Night snarled and the fire in his veins burned hotter, his thoughts growing darker as the need to protect her stirred his bloodlust—something he would need if he was going to beat Grave.

He tried to calm his mind, telling himself on repeat that Grave wouldn’t harm her. That his brother hadn’t come here for a fight or to take her from him. She was safe. He kept telling himself that, but it wouldn’t sink in. The urge to take her far away from Grave was only growing stronger as he stood there in the corridor with her, his hand on her soft flesh, her proximity wreaking havoc on him.

“Night?” she whispered, his name like a drug on her lips, addling his mind and drawing his gaze to her.

“Hmm?” he murmured as he fell into her enchanting eyes and lost himself in a pleasing fantasy of defeating his brother to protect her and her falling into his arms, grateful for what he had done.

Surrendering to him.

“Your brother is not the only guest. There is another vampire with him. He’s tall… big… white hair—”

He cut her off with a growl as his fangs punched long from his gums and his bloodlust roared to the fore, provoked by what she had said.

“Go to your room and do not leave it,” he snarled and when she didn’t move, he bared his fangs at her.

She flinched away from him and cast him a confused look, and gods,hewas frightening her now. He flexed his fingers around her arm. Fingers that were holding her in place, had been digging into her flesh in a bruising grip and keeping her close to him. He dragged down an unsteady breath and tried to tame his emotions, but they slipped their leashes and he knew she had seen his fear when her expression softened. He looked away from her, but still couldn’t convince himself to release her. The thought that she would be unescorted in the house while his cousin was present had him tightening his grip on her rather than loosening it, had a dark voice in his heart roaring at him to keep her close.

“Night?” she whispered again, intoxicating him and pulling him back to her, luring him up from the dark abyss he had been sinking into, one filled with satisfying images of him fighting Snow and Grave.

He craved the violence. The bloodshed. The breaking of bones. He wanted to taste copper on his tongue. Wanted to feel the bruising blows.

Lilian’s hand pressed to his cheek, tugging him towards the light and quietening his bloodlust.

“Should I prepare the drawing room?” She held his gaze, no trace of fear in hers now as she stood before him with her back rod-straight.

Brave little human.

She had seen his fear, had seen the darkness trying to consume him in response to that emotion, and rather than scurrying away to hide in her room as he had asked, she wanted to remain close to him.

He forced himself to nod.

“The crimson room.” He went to release her and then tightened his grip again as panic lanced him. She looked from his hand to his face. He stared into her eyes, holding her gaze, needing to know she was listening and would do as he asked because it was vital that she did. “Prepare the room and serve blood. Act as a servant would. Do not look directly at my cousin and my brother. You have to play the part, Lilian. Grave will expect you to act in a manner befitting of a servant. Do you understand? I know you hate this situation you are in, but right now, I need you to do this for me.”

She nodded and placed her hand over his, sending a thousand volts bolting up his arm. “I can do this. I’ll prepare the room and serve you, and then I’ll go to my room. You don’t have to worry, Night.”

He did have to worry, and not only about her performance. He needed to worry about his own too. Grave was astute and knew him too well. If he wasn’t careful, his brother would see he was developing feelings for Lilian, and he would be in trouble.

Night forced himself to release her and pulled down another breath as she hurried away from him. He could do this. All he had to do was keep his eyes off Lilian for a few minutes. He could manage that, surely?

He strode along the corridor, heading back to the foyer, steeling himself as he went. The second he stepped into view, Grave was frowning at him, his pale blue eyes narrowing with it.

“Where is Bastian?” His brother’s deep voice held a commanding note, one Night had heard many times in his years of service.

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